Sweeter Than Wine

Inkling of a Dream

*George's POV*

I felt the anger rise in me as I watched John lean toward her soft, pale neck. He whispers something to her, then buries his fangs, causing her to whimper and lose consciousness.

Paul, Ringo, and I spring fourth. Paul grabs John's left arm, Ringo his right. I grab _______ as they force him off of her. Her intoxicating blood streams down her slender neck, staining the button down she's wearing.

I cradle her to my chest, "seal it." I command. John grins, "why should I? You know we're going to stake claim with bonds sooner or later." I take a deep breath, "only if she WANTS. John you can't just claim someone without their consent!"

A look of guilt flashes across his face, as he steps forward. I hold her protectively away as I eye him. "I-I don't know what came over me...I was just so....hungry..it's been so long...I..." Paul lays a hand on his shoulder and speaks, "we know John, please just fix this before she finds out..."

John solemnly nods and leans down, gently tilting her head. He licks a slow, long strip across her bite wounds, sealing them shut. He abruptly turns on his heel and exits the house.

Us remaining three exchange glances. Ringo speaks first, "she is going to have some serious reservations about listening to us now...." Paul nods and says, "we just have to be there. George, bring her to your room and stay with her until she wakes. We need to explain before fear takes its hold."

I nod, lifting her bridal style. "I'll let you lads know when she wakes up...let me know if John comes back...". They both nod, and I carry her off to my room.

I slide the comforter over and lay her down gently. I gently run my finger along her jawline  thinking about our past. I place a chaste kiss on her forehead and pull the blanket over her.

I scoot the desk chair over and sit, grabbing her left hand in mine, waiting to see her lively eyes again.

After an hour my eyes start getting heavy and I lay my head down on the bed near her hand. I have a few peaceful moments of slumber when I feel _______ grip my hand tightly.

I lift my head up and open my mouth to speak, but see she is still sleeping. I rub my thumb over hers, "bad dream, darling?" She makes a soft humming noise and pulls my hand to her chest. A stupid grin spreads across my face as I lay my head back down.

*Your POV*

I swim through the murky blackness that surrounds me. I feel a bliss I've never known, a deep serenity that permeates my every pore. I am the most relaxed I've ever felt in my entire life.

I hear a melodic voice calling out to me. The velvet smooth sound pulls me in. I swim lazily toward the origin of it. Finally I step from the haze to see George.

"George!" I exclaim happily and slip over to him. He grins widely and stands to greet me, setting his acoustic guitar gently in the grass of the flower meadow.

His strong arms engulf me in a tender, warm hug as he kisses my temple. "You look absolutely brilliant today, my darling." I smile brightly at his compliment, "you don't look half bad yourself, Mr. Harrison."

A devilish gleam shines in his eyes, "you know I love when you call me that, you naughty girl." I grin mischievously at him as I trail my hands down his chest.

As I reach his abdomen he grabs my wrist lightly, smirking. "Uh-uh, love, I've got something important to do." I smile confusedly up at him toying with the hem of his shirt.

*********

Suddenly I'm awoken by a dull pain in my stomach. A pain I can identify as hunger. After all, the only thing I've had in the past 30 hours has been a sip of tea.

I gently flutter my eyes open to see George's mop topped head laying by our entwined hands. I blush profusely remembering my dream and whisper while squeezing his hand, "George?"

His head pops up, eyes instantly alert, "what's wrong, _____?" I smile sheepishly, "I'm sorry, nothings wrong....I'm just hungry.." George let's out a hearty laugh and stands up, stretching his arms up.

He reaches down and helps me stand, glancing toward my neck and his blood stained shirt. "Here love, let me get you a different shirt." He rummages through his wardrobe, pulling out a pretty chiffon tank top, presumably from "my" box.

He hands it to me, turning so I can change. I unbutton the shirt and throw in onto the bed, seeing for the first time the intense scarlet staining the collar. I swallow hard and slip into the soft tank top, enjoying the lovely fabric against my warm skin.

I clear my throat and George turns to face me. A sweet smile graces his supple lips as he holds his arm out to me. I slip my arm into his and we head downstairs.